Sizzy in an Elevator
by deanhasaclockworkangel
Summary: Simon and Isabelle in a rather finnicky elevator. Shenanigans ensue.


"Are you _kidding_ me?!" Simon hissed. He desperately jammed the buttons on the elevator, and glanced over at Isabelle, embarrassed. She was watching him, arms folded, a small smile curving her lips. He sighed to himself, wondering how he'd been finagled into bringing her along on a job interview. She swore she had used the invisibility rune so she could just follow him around with no one noticing, but he never knew with Isabelle. He knew he couldn't live off the generosity of the Shadowhunters forever, and had decided to get a job. Isabelle had announced this morning she had wanted to come along, and what Isabelle wanted, Isabelle generally got.

So here he was, stuck in a jammed elevator with an interview in less than an hour and a very curious, very _un_impressed Shadowhunter watching him. _Thank God Jace isn't here_, he thought. Simon could only imagine the creative and snarky insults Clary's boyfriend would come up with in this situation.

A pair of slim arms suddenly wrapped around his neck from behind. He started slightly, thinking that he really sucked as a vampire, as he turned to face their owner. Isabelle smiled up at him with that same small smile still touching her mouth as she asked, "Is this generally how mundane job interviews work?"

Simon sighed again. "No, usually the applicant isn't a teenage vampire dragging his Nephilim girlfriend around and while managing to jam the elevator, if that's what you're asking."

Isabelle pouted, her lips red and shiny as cherries. "By the Angel, someone's cranky today." Her pout lightens into a slight frown, and she says, "Oh, of course, that's why." She pulls away and reaches up to pull her inky hair into a ponytail, then strips off her jacket.

For a moment, Simon wonders what she's doing, but when she reveals her pale, runed shoulders and smooth throat, he doesn't really care anymore. She approaches him again with a seductive smile, backing him into the wall of the elevator and running her hands up his arms to his shoulders to twine them in his hair. She leans up and whispers "When was the last time you drank?" Simon shudders at both her words and the feel of her breath on his ear and neck. He closes his eyes. "Isabelle... Izzy... We're sort of in public..." Her lips brush over his collarbone and throat, as if she were the vampire, and he resists the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shove her against the wall and bury his face in her warm throat and bite through the delicate membrane of skin and find the hot rich life flowing there-

"Oh, yes, a perfectly public jammed elevator. Come on, you need to do it, and I already know those chilled bags aren't very appealing..." she breathes. Simon swallows. As usual, she's right. Slowly, he sinks to the floor and she slides sinuously onto his lap. She leans down and kisses him, their tongues tangling and her hair knotting around his fingers. He kisses down her throat as she sighs and arches against him, her head tipped back to grant him access. Simon can smell her. He can _taste_ her.

With a sound between a growl and a sigh, his fangs sink into her skin. Isabelle's soft chest presses against him as she moans softly and pulls herself closer. His arms tighten around her and his pleasure only heightens as Isabelle's hips began to rock against his. He breaks away with a gasp, sated, and barely pauses to lick her wound closed and swallow down the last of her blood before their mouths crash together again.

He caresses her collarbone and shoulder with his lips, and she moans again, rocking against him even harder. Eventually it's too much, and Simon lifts her easily as he stands. She gasps and locks her legs around his back as he shoves her against the elevator car wall. One hand tangles in his hair while the other runs up his back, under his shirt, her nails dragging just enough to have raised goosebumps.

She gasps "Simon-" and relinquishes her grip long enough to fumble at his belt, even as he's fumbling with her shirt. It's nearly unbearable. She's so soft, so warm, and smells like jasmine and blood and Isabelle and-

Ding! They both freeze as the lights on the panel suddenly light up and a whirring sound fills the air as the machine comes back to life. He sighs and drops his forehead onto her shoulder. "Are you kidding me?" he growls. Isabelle laughs softly. "It's okay. Just ace this interview, and then we can pick this up again later." Her lips, not nearly as glossy as before, curve into a smile. Simon kisses her once more, then gently sets her down. When they reach the desired floor, they're both only slightly rumpled, although Isabelle is still pawing at the back of his hair where she can't get it to lie down as they exit the car.


End file.
